


Grumbling and Mumbling

by F00PY



Series: Analogical Hogwarts [24]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bookworm Logic | Logan Sanders, Cuddling, Gen, Genius Logic | Logan Sanders, Harry potter verse, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Musician Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Pianist Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Ravenclaw Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Ravenclaw Logic | Logan Sanders, Slytherin Deceit | Janus Sanders, Some Janus Angst, Virgil struggles with writing music, Werewolf, barely edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29982156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F00PY/pseuds/F00PY
Summary: “What was your book about?” Virgil mumbled.“It was a murder mystery. Fiction.” Logan glanced over at it. “It was relatively uninteresting, though I think that’s more because I knew who the killer was almost instantly and less due to the book itself.”“Hmm. My poor sparkle unicorn genius.”
Relationships: Analogical - Relationship, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders (mentioned), Logan & Virgil & Janus & Patton
Series: Analogical Hogwarts [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954183
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68





	Grumbling and Mumbling

Janus never really remembered the nights he was a wolf.

There were flashbacks, certainly. When he changed back, the second thing to hit him, right after the aching of his body, were random moments throughout the night that meant absolutely nothing, even when strung together in an attempt to form some kind of narrative. 

The flashbacks hadn’t always happened. Something about being around other Patton, Virgil, and Logan allowed Janus to be less wolfy and retain some of his human mind. While still mostly mindless, it meant he could remember moments through the night.

He could remember the wolf getting restless.

He could remember chasing a unicorn (probably Logan) through the woods.

He could remember the croaking of a frog.

He could remember the weight of a raccoon riding on his back.

And that was about it.

Janus opened his eyes. 

Logan, Virgil, and Patton were gone. Apparently, when he shifted back into a human, he usually ended up collapsing and they would take that little moment to sneak back into school so Madam Pomfrey didn’t discover them.

Right.

Janus reclosed his eyes.

It was Sunday. That was good. He liked having full moons on the weekend: no need to worry about classes to attend or catch up on and a free day to recuperate and become himself again.

He had promised to help start Virgil’s song. According to their little Raccoon Boi, Logan was useless because he knew nothing about music, Patton was useless because he always started crying halfway through, the rest of the Ravenclaws were useless because he didn’t trust them and his Gryffindor friends (gag) were useless because they always wanted to make it too dramatic and stupid.

So he had to do that today.

Patton said he wanted him to try something he had baked, which meant the Hufflepuff was experimenting, which was good in the long run but at the moment the treat was in its early stages and Janus wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that. 

Maybe he could convince him that Janus should try it tomorrow.

Before Janus could properly figure out how he could accomplish that, the door of the Shrieking Shack opened and Madam Pomfrey bustled in.

“The beginning sounds good.”

“Does it?”

Logan paused. “Well, I assume so.”

“What do you mean you _assume_ so!? You either like it or you don’t!”

“Then I like it.”

Virgil let out the longest groan Logan had ever heard him make and dropped his head onto the keyboard in front of it. A chorus of random noises followed the movement and he followed that noise up with fists slamming down on either side of his head.

“You’re a genius. You’re able to read and memorize entire novels in less than 5 minutes, you can figure out a person’s entire life story by an ink stain on their arm, _how_ do you not know anything about music?!”

Logan wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“Uuuuurrraaaaagggghhhh. I hate thisssss. I’ve only managed to write half a line and I’m already at a blocking point!”

After a brief moment of observing Virgil and finding nothing but blanket frustration over his piano piece, Logan turned back to the book he was currently reading and flipped the page. He wasn’t terribly invested in it, but he had never left a book uncompleted before so he certainly wasn’t going to start now.

Besides, it was only a few more minutes.

“Alright.” Virgil sat up. “I need you to tell me which one sounds better. This?” He played a couple of notes in a row. “Or this?” More notes followed.

“I like them both.”

“But which one do you like better?”

“I don’t really have an opinion on that.”

With a loud abrupt screech, Virgil pushed from the piano, stalked over to Logan, and bent over. He placed both of his hands on Logan’s knees and met Logan’s eyes head-on.

“You’re. Not. Helping.”

Logan closed the book and placed it in a crack between the chair and the cushion on it, not dropping his gaze from Virgil’s eyes. 

“Music is really not my strong suit, Stardust.”

“It should be!” Virgil’s bottom lips stuck out and he glowered from his spot above him. “I’m trying to compose a magical gay anthem, as Taylor McCall phrased it, and you’re just saying it's all good!”

“It is all good.”

“It has to be perfect _Logan_! Do you understand?! _Perfect!_ Right now, I have no idea how to continue the song-”

“You’ve hit blockages before-”

“-What I have is rubbish-”

“That’s an overstatement-”

“-and I can’t decide if an f or a g is better!”

Virgil finished with a loud huff then promptly collapsed forward so his head fell into Logan’s shoulder and his arms now gripped the edges of the seat to keep from falling over.

“That position cannot be comfortable for you.”

A quiet grumbling affirmative noise came from Logan’s neck.

Logan reached out around Virgil’s waist and drew his boyfriend into his lap. Virgil slid his butt down so he was short enough to hide his face in Logan’s shoulder and looped both of his arms over Logan’s head, muttering something about “stupid pianos” and “stupid keys” while he did so. 

Logan wrapped one arm around Virgil’s waist and used the other one to rescoop up his book. With that one hand, he flipped back to his page and resumed reading.

Every now and then, Virgil would shift his head and tickle the back of Logan’s neck but generally, the only feeling was the whisper of breath and now and then, the crackling flip of a page. Without his normal dexterity, it took Logan much longer to finish the book, most of the time spent flipping the stupid pages, but he didn’t mind it much, especially if it was the only price to holding Virgil in his arms.

Once he had completed it, Logan placed it back between the cushion and the chair and looped his other arm around Virgil.

In response, Virgil let out a quiet grumbling noise and pressed his nose deeper into the spot of Logan’s neck that met his shoulder.

“Have you noticed,” Logan said softly, “that you’ve been making raccoon noises, even where you’re not using its form?”

His voice was barely above a whisper; for some reason, Logan felt like speaking loudly would break the cocoon they had made in his chair. Logan wasn’t quite sure why, but apparently, Virgil agreed, because when he answered, his voice was even quieter than Logan’s.

“Have you noticed the tuft of hair in the middle of your forehead that keeps sticking up?”

One of the hands that had been wrapped around Virgil came up to pat the top of Logan’s head, almost instinctively. Virgil huffed a laugh before reaching up, snatching Logan’s hand, and replacing it around his body.

They fell back into the easy silence from before.

“What was your book about?” Virgil mumbled. 

“It was a murder mystery. Fiction.” Logan glanced over at it. “It was relatively uninteresting, though I think that’s more because I knew who the killer was almost instantly and less due to the book itself.”

“Hmm. My poor sparkle unicorn genius.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“Have you read the whole school library yet?”

“I’ve finished about 87%. I’m working through the less interesting ones right now.” 

Silence again. Virgil shifted on Logan’s lap, bringing himself up taller than Logan (something he could only ever achieve when sitting on him) before re-collapsing onto a different area of Logan’s shoulder.

“The piano hates me.”

“The piano does not hate you. It’s inanimate. It can’t hate anyone.”

“That's what it wants you to think.”

A small smile tugged on Logan’s lips and he grazed his arm down Virgil’s back. “You’re simply struggling with starting your song. Wait until Janus is able enough to play with you, and then ask for his advice. You’ll figure it out.”

Virgil responded with more grumbling.

The empty classroom- which had sort of become their lair- opened and, as if Logan had summoned him, Janus strode in. Logan’s lips pursed slightly as he looked him over, but he remained quiet.

He didn’t mention the slightly hollow look in Janus’s eyes, a look that appeared every month for a couple of days after the full moon.

He didn’t mention the slower way Janus was walking or the way he twisted to avoid putting too much weight on his right leg- probably because when transforming back, his bone structure hadn’t popped perfectly back in. 

He didn’t mention the fragile smirk on the Slytherin's face, a smirk which stood not because Janus was happy, but as a wall to keep back the avalanche of feelings that threatened to spill over.

There were other, happier things that Logan noticed. The way the smirk softened slightly when he spotted Logan and Virgil- an actual sign of happiness rather than the image he presented. The casual lightening of his eyes.

The happier things were few and far between the day after a full moon.

“Adorable,” Janus drawled. He put two fingers into his throat and pretended to gag. “When did you learn to play the piano in Logan’s lap, Virgil? And from so far away!”

Virgil flipped him off and Logan let his arms around his Ravenclaw loosen, allowing Virgil to easily slip out of his lap and make his way back over to the piano sitting in the middle of the room. 

Janus followed him. The pair sat on the piano’s bench, and at Janus’s nod, Virgil launched into his explanation of the song, beginning and ending with how much he hated it.

“Play it.”

The same notes Logan had been hearing for the past three hours echoed once again around the room. He turned in his chair slightly, allowing him a better view of Virgil’s fingers as they danced across the keys.

Barely five seconds had passed before they stopped, on the same key that they had stopped for the past two hours.

Janus nodded. “I say you scrape the whole thing and start over.”

Well, Logan really hadn’t expected him to say that. But then, he had never really understood things like music; when a performance brought everyone to tears, Logan had always been dry-faced. He knew the difference between a bad sound and a good sound- anyone knew that- but a good sound and a great one always sounded the same.

“I’ve been working on this for a day.”

“And you’ve only gotten this far. You have no inspiration for this song, no feelings for it, so you can’t continue it, and anything you do write sounds flat and dry.”

Virgil stared blankly at the piano before nodding quietly. “Yeah. It’s rubbish.”

Logan really didn’t know what was happening. For some reason, despite the fact that Janus had just insulted Virgil’s song, Virgil didn’t seem very upset. 

If anything, he read… energized. 

Interesting.

“Just figure out where you’re going to get your inspiration from for the song,” Janus told him. “Then you’ll be able to figure out how to write it.”


End file.
